Just another day in paradise

Today started out like any other day in my new life as a Pacific islander. I wake up, have some fresh fruit for breakfast and get ready for work. But the second I step out the front door I realize something is different.
There is bumper-to-bumper traffic on my street. The sounds of wailing sirens fill the air. Sidewalks are lined with school children who should still be in class. Trucks filled with sandbags and others filled with police speed past me.
Another coup d’etat? Already?
Well, this is Fiji.
Then my neighbour shouts to me, “Dale where are you going?”
“To work,” I respond.
“Didn’t you hear?” he says. “There’s a tsunami warning.”
Another tsunami warning? Already?
Well, this is Fiji.
Immediately, I notice this tsunami warning is different than the one from nine days ago. During the last warning people seemed to act like the whole thing was a big holiday rather than what it really was: a national emergency.
And although Fiji was spared from the Sept. 28 tsunami, Samoa wasn’t so fortunate. Perhaps it was the number of deaths, 164, or maybe it was the newspaper images of carnage and devastation in Samoa that made Fijians take today’s warning more seriously.
Whatever the reason, there was now a sense of panic in the streets.
Even my roommate, Hart, who casually brushed off last week’s warning, admitted he was legitimately scared when the soccer game he was attending was cancelled half way through. To make matters more frightening the cell phone network in Fiji went down because of a system overload.
My editor emailed me and told me to meet him at a park that serves as an emergency evacuation point because it’s on the highest ground in the city. But I soon realized that getting a cab wasn’t an option, and it was too far to walk.
No, I was stuck. This wasn’t a bad thing because my flat is on relatively high ground.
However, after a few minutes pacing around the apartment, the journalist in me started to take over. I need to get outside and cover this event, I thought.
Armed with my usual arsenal of weapons – camera, notebook and digital recorder – I hit the streets. I went to a busy intersection where police were directing traffic that was backed up for blocks. I was initially hesitant to take any shots near police because they don’t like to be photographed. But today they had bigger things to worry about than ending up in a few of my photos. My adrenaline started flowing (yes, journalism does give me an adrenaline rush – and I hope it always will) as I snapped picture after picture of the somewhat organized chaos.
After reviewing my shots I realized I could probably sell some of them to foreign news agencies. I headed back to my apartment and started brainstorming who would be interested in my photos. I decided to go big and pitch the shots to Associated Press (one of the largest news gathering organizations in the world) and Al-Jazeera, an Asian news provider.
Since the phones were still out I called the companies on Skype. I didn’t get an answer at Al-Jazeera, but AP said it was interested. I was transferred to the Tokyo photo desk and was told to send in my pictures. I selected three of my best shots. As I hit the send button I could already envision my byline (name) under an AP photo. After all, these pictures could end up anywhere: The New York Times, The Washington Post, The Globe and Mail.
About one minute after sending the pictures I started religiously refreshing my email account to see if I had a response. Then suddenly the unthinkable happened: my internet crashed.
Within seconds I was out the door heading for the internet café. Upon stepping outside I instantly noticed something was amiss. Where were all the traffic jams? No sirens could be heard. The corners were suddenly without police. And the internet café was open – that isn’t a good sign.
No, no, this wasn’t happening. The warning COULDN’T be over. I needed that New York Times byline to add to my resume!
Sure enough after logging on to my email account I had received an email from the AP photographer reading:

Hi Dale,

Thank you for your offering of the three photos.
We will contact with you if/when the story will be much bigger here.

Regards,

Toru Takahashi
Photo Editor
AP Tokyo Photos

Of course, the story wouldn’t get any bigger because the warning had passed – I read the terrible news online. Fiji dodged another tsunami and I couldn’t have been more disappointed. No 15 minutes of journalism fame for me.
As I walked home thinking about the glory I almost tasted, I looked out at the great Pacific Ocean and suddenly realized just how vulnerable this tiny island really is. I suddenly snapped out of my self pitying state and decided I don’t care if my name never graces the pages of a world-class newspaper.
I, along with the rest of Fiji, got incredibly lucky not once, but twice in the last 10 days. That’s reason enough to be thankful.